


A Kiss From Fire and Snow

by lazy_bird



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Curses, F/F, F/M, Game of Thrones - Freeform, Game of Thrones Alternate Universe, Magic, Multi, Polyamorous Relationships, Polyamory, War, army of the dead - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-15
Updated: 2017-10-26
Packaged: 2018-12-30 00:24:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 15,702
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12096657
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lazy_bird/pseuds/lazy_bird
Summary: Sansa thought that she was the only sibling that wasn’t touched by magic or gods but she learns that that is not true. It all has to do with Jon Snow, who she thought was her brother, and the Queen Daenerys Targaryen, the beautiful women from her visions. Due to a curse that was placed on her she realizes that, not only her body is changing but so are her feelings for them. Soon she will fly and defend her people from the Army of the Dead because that is what she was born to do and no one will stop her.





	1. Whispers and Visions

**Author's Note:**

> (I live on the island of Puerto Rico and we have been hit by hurricane Maria. This is the only update I can give because I have no light and no internet. As soon as I have it I keep updating. Thank you all for reading :) )I hope the first chapter of this short story captures your attention. And it's the first fic I've published from GoT! It's an idea that had been stuck in my head for so long and I just had to write it. It's going to be 5 chapters short (and maybe it will feel a bit rushed) but fear not, it will have everything.  
> I hope you guys enjoy it!

Sansa couldn’t help but feel like that stupid little girl again.  

She was so sure that ending Littlefinger's life as a murderer and a traitor would solve most of her problems. But she underestimated his view of the future and made sure that, when all else failed, to cause a turmoil between the House Stark and the others.  

He had convinced one of the girls to spill the news of Jon bending the knee to Daenerys Targaryen. Most of the lords were offended that this type of news would be kept from them; others were outraged that the King of the North would do such a thing knowing full well the history both houses had. They questioned, once again, his ability to be their rightful King.   

Sansa wasn’t fond of the idea. She knew that it would take too much time to discuss such an important move through ravens but still… the thought of a southern ruler didn’t sit well with her. After all, Daenerys was the daughter of the Mad King and he murdered not only innocent people but his grandfather and uncle … not to mention that the brother, Rhaegar, did to her aunt. Even Arya, who Sansa noticed the calmness and patience she possessed, was trying her best to not show her outrage. 

Brandon just kept quiet. Observing everything. 

Some threatened to leave with their armies; some even conspired to make Sansa Queen of the North. Sansa stood and slammed her hand on the wooden table.  

"My lords, my ladies … have we forgotten the real threat? Have we forgotten the real reason why we are here? In this point in our lives, where everything can vanish in the blink of an eye, do we still need to argue about the houses? The dead doesn’t care which houses you all belong to, which houses you pledge allegiance. You cannot negotiate with this type of enemy! Their only allegiance is with death! You, my lord,"

She pointed at the lord who questioned Jon's loyalty. "could end up on their side without even knowing it. You may go after your people, after the other houses … the same can happen to me. We need as many allies as possible. We need to realize that if our King, who left Winterfell, his home, his people, his family, to seek help from everyone then we must respect his decision. Jon knows very well what the House Targaryen did but now they are the ones helping us. I am not happy with his decision but as Lady of Winterfell, I have to set aside my pride for your sake. Remember, she has dragons and an army bigger than ours." 

Her words calmed the meeting; Lyanna Mormont nodded, giving such an intense stare. The other lords were murmuring. Did they really have a choice? 

Sansa waited for them to collect their thoughts. "Let King Jon speak on his behalf. He gave some of you a second chance and that is all I’m asking.” 

At the end of the meeting, after all the lords and lady left, she headed for her chambers; the chambers that her mother and father used to sleep in. She had so many memories there but these memories couldn’t distract her from the pain she was experiencing. Her side ached and burned like if it was pierced and it was spreading all over her body. There was no bruise, no marks. 

Just pain.  

 

It all started the day before she got a raven from Jon explaining his decision, how the threat was real, how they got proof for Cersei and Daenerys Targaryen lost one of her dragons. It was a normal day in Winterfell, she was making sure food and clothes were properly distributed and Littlefinger whispering in her ear. She was in her room, taking a breather and preparing for sleep when suddenly she heard a whisper; a faint voice calling her name.  

At first, she thought it was her imagination. It was snowing heavily and there were many sounds coming from the castle. But she heard it again and this time it was coming from inside the room. Her heart was racing and her palms were getting sweaty. She took her candle to see where it might be coming from. But she was alone and she didn’t know which one was scarier. 

The candle's flame danced suddenly; fluttering every time she heard the whisper. Now it was coming from the door. 

She followed it. 

The whispers lead her to the crypts where the statue of her aunt stood still; lit by little candles, flames dancing making the illusion that her face was changing expressions.  

Sansa was sweating which was uncommon. Crypts were cold. That was the only thing that never changed when she returned and it made her feel right at home. But right now, her hair was sticking on her neck and forehead, drops of sweat rolling down her back, chest, and temples. 

Sansa held her candle up to get a better view of the statue but with each step, it flickered with passion. As she raised the candle towards the face, it gave a little explosion, cracking and sending little sparks of fire on her, landing softly but painfully on her cheek and right eye. It startled her and she dropped the candle.  

A gust of wind blew the rest. 

She was left in complete darkness. 

Her senses heightened and she was still feeling the pain in her eye. She rubbed it and tried to look for her candle but a rumble caught her attention. Sansa looked up slowly and with immense fear where behind the statue was a glow. It was big and it looked like something was covering it—as if it was glowing from inside of something.  

The glow grew brighter and brighter until she could see two pairs of golden eyes, pupils stretched and smoke coming out of its nostrils. It was a monster with scales and fangs. Its head was no bigger than the crypt. It was as if its whole body was inside but it was too dark to see. 

The glow was coming from inside its mouth. 

Sansa panicked but she was petrified in fear. She wanted to scream and run but she couldn’t. It was as if her body wasn’t responding to her commands.  

The voice came again but this time it was coming from the statue. Soft but clear as a gust of wind. 

 _Sansa …come closer…_  

Her body moved on its own and went closer. With each trembling step, a tear rolled down and her breath quivered as she positioned herself behind the statue.  

 _Touch … him …_  

Her hand trembled as she raised it. She was suffocating since it was getting harder to breathe from the heat the monster was emitting. The snout of the beast lowered for her reach, and as she touched it, the glow grew brighter and she could feel the growl inside of it like a rising rumble.  

Slowly its jaws opened and the whisper said something that it filled her with sorrow, but it was drowned by the fire hitting her body and her screams of horror and fear and pain. To die like this was a cruel fate. 

She woke up from her bead with Bran sitting by the window and looking outside. Sansa was drenched in sweat and with the new pain. It made her nauseous and went to throw up beside the bed. There was already a bucket there for her. When she finished, she looked at Bran and without looking he said, "We have a raven from Jon." 

 

Now back to the present, the pain grew larger and she had to give her all to not show it on her face. But another thing started to happen and that was that, no matter how low the temperature dropped, it didn’t faze her. She hadn't noticed until someone mentioned it to her. The ravens were  _dying_ as soon as they reached their destination because it was  _too cold_  for them.  

And there she was without her fur.  

People were adding layers and layers of leather and fur and there she was with beads of sweat on her upper lip. 

Sansa drank water constantly. The colder the better. But her thirst was growing and growing with each passing day. One time when she was visiting the Weirwood Tree, it burned so drastically that she had to eat snow from the ground. Fists of snow she tried to swallow but she threw up blood because she hurt herself. 

The contrast of the red with the white was frightening to her. 

What was happening to her? 

 

The monster kept appearing in her dreams. But it was as if she was looking through its eyes—from the moment of its birth to the last minute in that icy land from the sky. The pain on her side was in the same location where the monster was pierced. So many emotions, raw and strong as the monster itself: love, freedom, fear even confusion. 

With every emotion came the figure of a young beautiful woman: big purple eyes and silver hair. Sansa felt (from its perspective) that she would do anything for her. It was a bond that was alien to Sansa and it overwhelmed her. It was a type of loyalty that no human has ever experienced before and it was a bong greater than  _anything_ she has ever felt.  

The vision of her smile when she named the beast, the laughter, and freedom when they rode the sky for the first time and also sadness when she locked them up, chained. Stripped of her touch and the infinite blue. Also, the desperation when the spear pierced its body and body hit the icy ground and then being swallowed by the water and the beast, knowing full well what was happening tried its best to take one last look at her mother.  

How can that monster be able to feel so much? 

Sansa also felt the power of the hunt; the thrill of being a predator. The raw meat between its fangs was just  _delicious_  and the satisfying feeling when spitting fire. 

But that girl… Sansa's vision gave her some sort of new feelings towards her that were new to her. At one point she stopped fighting it. Maergery appeared in her memories and that conversation they had about pleasure and options. She was quite confused. The girl equaled in beauty and strength and intimidation. Sansa admired her. She may be looking through the monster's eyes but she was still Sansa and Sansa could tell when the emotions were hers and not. 

And this was all her.  

There were also visions of Jon.  

They were very few but still there: one where her brother was touching the monster's snout and where they were at the icy field, surrounded by the dead. Jon was in constant danger and it made Sansa's heart race.  

Sansa had to admit that she always looked at Jon. It was more about admiration of endurance as a bastard. She could never understand what he felt but just looking at him made her realized that he was stronger than he appeared. She was happy that he was her King… but now something changed. 

 There was a pull. An unnatural pull. It was different from what one usually felt towards a family member. She couldn’t explain it or more as she ignored it fearing the worst.  

 

One morning Sansa decided to finally go to the crypts. Days she would prevent herself from going down after that vivid dream. Maybe there she could find the answers about what was going on with her. Answers about her body and her visions.  

She wore the fur just so that people wouldn’t question her but deep down she would have left it in her chambers and let her body be free and burning. 

When she arrived at her aunt’s statue, it was well illuminated and she could see the end of the hall where it ended on a wall. There was no way a monster that big could fit in there but this made her question her sanity even more. 

Sansa decided to ignore everything. It didn’t make any sense to her and she felt stupid and like a child again: scared of some dreams and a pain that could have been checked from the very beginning but as soon as she turned her back, she heard the whisper again and it went as soon as it came.  

She tried to listen again but she was interrupted by Arya's voice. Sansa was trying hard to listen in the silence that when she heard her sister's voice it hurt her and startled her. Her little sister waited for her to compose herself before talking again. 

"Sansa, we need you upstairs." But Sansa kept looking at the statue as if it would come to life and speak. "Are you all right?" she snapped out of it and nodded. 

The burning and the pain continued. 

She knew why Arya was down there looking for her and it made her smile a bit even under all the circumstances. It felt stiff but genuine. "Shall we go together and greet our brother?" Arya nodded and gave a little smile too. 

Both of them walked away, leaving the statue of her dead aunt behind.  

   
 


	2. Blood and Ice

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this update comes from my phone since I have Onenote in it AND my computer. Because of this there might be some grammatical errors but I promise I wil fix them. Thank you for the comments! The mean the world to me especially in the crisis that me and my lovely archipelago are currently in. Thank you so much!

The gates opened and groaned as a welcome back.  

Like it has done for hundreds of years and hoping for a hundred more. 

Sansa, Arya, and Bran were standing next to each other as they watched how Jon and the southern ruler, along with everyone else, enter. It was quiet, no celebration, no cheers… just the winter winds blowing the flags and the rustling of feet and horses. 

The Stark Children were a view. 

The people who have never seen them were captivated by their presence. Each one changed by their experiences and it showed in their expressions and stances. Sansa was wearing her coat and her hood was covering her red Tully hair, mostly to hide the fact that she was sweating but her eyes were still and her head high. It screamed, from her father's side, the title of  _Lady of Winterfell_  and from her mother's side, the House Tully's words:  _Family, Duty, Honor_.  

Arya had her hands behind her back, chest puffed with pride and Needle at her side like she was ready to battle at any time and Bran… was looking stoic as if he possessed all the knowledge of the world. 

As soon as Jon saw them, he got down from his horse not looking back and walked towards them. Brienne had taken a few steps too, alongside Sir Davos. Their King walked fast. Daenerys couldn’t help but notice the relief and somewhat happiness that his siblings gave him. 

Arya's hands landed on her side. 

"Jon," she said. Her voice had changed, it sounded more like acknowledgment than anything else.  

He expected as much. Once she was the little girl who ran with knight helmets, who shot arrows behind their backs and run away from Septa Mordane (may the gods rest her soul) in frustration when she couldn't stitch correctly and now there was no trace of that. 

The nostalgia was unbearable. 

But he hugged her (surprising her a bit) and then kissed her forehead. He wanted to ruffle her hair like old times but he decided not to. It didn’t matter how much she has changed though, it was good to see her again. "I see you still have Needle." he gave her a smile. She nodded. 

"Kept me company all this time." she patted it. 

"Be careful, my King. She is deadly with that thing." Brienne said, chuckling but Jon didn’t look back at her, just smiled at Arya. 

"Good," he said softly, unaware of the  _adventures_  the new Sword of Winterfell had to endure. 

"Jon," said Bran. Jon let out a deep and subtle ragged breath.  

He couldn’t help but remember Rickon so his hand reached for his head and caressed it. The smallest of the Starks caught in a battle where he was in no way involved, dead by the hands of the monster that had Winterfell at his command— who tortured their sister.  

His dreams were hunted by how the army stepped on him like it was nothing as they ran into battle. Jon tried… he really did… Plus the last time he saw Bran, he hadn't woken up from the fall. His little brother looked up, older than before, almost like a stranger. 

"Don't worry. He is in a better place now." Jon furrowed his eyebrows in confusion. 

Sansa cleared her throat, reading the situation. "Welcome back," Jon nodded and smiled.  

Sansa had the urge to hug his brother and the other to actually punch him. She was never the one to get physical with anyone but she had to admit that he caused her a lot of trouble. But looking at him, in one piece relieved her in a way that it controlled her pain.  

"Glad to be back." Sansa smiled a small one that took practice in the halls of her home and helped her get through those awful days as Joffrey's captive.  

Behind him was the woman Sansa was too familiar with but never actually met. Her face told one story—unchanged and unreadable like a statute—but her heart told another—quick and hard like the gallop of a horse. In one of the visions she figured out who she was and it made it harder for her to accept everything. 

Daenerys met her with an equal gaze, both cold and guarded as women who had experienced hardship and betrayal and loss. There was no need to show each other some unnecessary emotions given their houses' history. But Sansa's thirst began again and there was a point where she couldn’t hide it anymore so she had to act fast. 

After the girl with black curly hair, whose name was Missandei, recited the titles of the Queen, Sansa finally said, "Welcome, Queen Daenerys." Daenerys walked towards Sansa with Tyrion and Missandei by her side. "Welcome to Winterfell." 

Daenerys gave a courteous smile. The type that comes out of politics. "It's a pleasure, under the circumstances."  

Suddenly the wind hit Sansa's hood and it revealed her red hair, sticking on her neck, cheeks flushed. She looked up and saw the dragons fly above Winterfell. There they were … she didn’t feel fear anymore as they circled, looking for a place to land. 

None of the Stark children flinched when they saw the dragons (unlike Jon and Sir Davos who threw themselves on the ground.) Everyone else yelled in fear and shock, seeing such creatures for the first time.  

Daenerys just looked at Sansa. Just her. There was something there but she couldn’t put her finger on it… but one thing was for sure, her icy stare was piercing. 

"I guess I'll never get used to that," said Sir Davos, touching his chest. But the Stark children just stood there, waiting. There was a rumor about the Starks:  _they say it gets so cold up here in winter that a man's laughter freezes in his throat and chokes him to death. Perhaps that is why the Starks have so little humor._  "… All right then. Shall we go?" he extended his hand and everyone followed the Starks so that they could commence the meeting. 

Sam had arrived and Jon greeted him as one would greet a man he would trust with all his might. Still plump and round as ever. He had urged his friend and King of news he had but Jon said that it must wait. There are more pressing matters. There was no time for rest and gossip. 

 

What they talked about mostly in the meeting was how Jon convinced Cersei to join them and future strategies. All the lords and ladies listened and asked questions. Sansa had calmed them down but it was a matter of time before one of them would mention the elephant in the room (the beautiful and strange elephant with silver hair and dragons). But most of their worries were about trusting Cersei.  

She might be an ally  _now_ but who can say she won't use this as an opportunity to destroy what is left of the houses? They were in their right to be concerned. There was the dead who doesn’t care which house they pledged their allegiance to and the sudden ally Queen in King's Landing who does cares (too much) where their loyalties are. It was hard to process. 

"Her face at the sight of the  _wight_  was as sincere as I've ever seen," said Lord Tyrion. "She is a woman of not too many emotions. I can guarantee it was as real as her love for her dead children." 

"And brother," said one of the lords on the back. It followed by chuckles from the other lords and men. When they saw that no one at the table, not even Lyanna Mormont, laughed, the laughter stopped, followed by low murmurs and throats being cleared. 

"Anyway," Tyrion continued. "She will join us. Remember that she has much to lose as the rest of us." 

There was a long pause. "Can at least the King of the North explain to us his decision to bending the knee to the Mad King's daughter?" a roar of outraged murmurs and demanding grunts surrounded them. Sansa's ears hurt and she wanted this meeting to be over.  

Jon stood up, placing his knuckles on top of the wooden table, the black leather gloves stretching with pressure. "A man once reminded me of a man I executed when I was Lord Commander. He let his pride kill him and many of his people. Pride, at this point, is a luxury I cannot and won’t have. Not when there is too much at risk. Queen Daenerys Targaryen is not her father and she gave me her word of helping us because like Lord Tyrion said, just like Cersei, she has too much to lose too." 

Lady Mormont looked at Sansa. "What do you think, Lady Sansa?" the room went quiet. Daenerys looked at her with some sort of admiration. To think that someone as such a young age had so much power and respect. 

Sansa was using all her strength to hide the pain from showing on her face. She was breathing slowly and deeply to see if that would help. It didn’t. Jon looked at her and she looked at him but moved her eyes quickly.  

"My lords, my ladies… " there was pure silence. There was anticipation in the air as if whatever words would come out of her lovely mouth would change everything drastically. After all, she was a true high born and Jon a bastard. That type of bias was still in the back of their minds. "I already spoke my mind about the matter. The dead are coming."  

Jon felt like his body relaxed. It wasn’t that he didn’t trust her but he too felt the importance of her words to the other houses.  

"If Cersei Lannister, a woman who brought ruin to my family, who only looks out for herself, a woman who would have slaughtered your King and his men if she wanted … decided to join forces with us because she could see the threat was bigger than her gain then I don’t see why my brother bending the knee is a matter of discussion when all our lives are at stake. There will be no future if we keep looking into the past. I am not asking to forget your history or forgive anyone. What I'm asking is to trust your King the same way I trust him." Jon looked down and tried his best not to smile. 

And Daenerys noticed that Sansa’s words and thoughts were very important to Jon. She knew that having her on her bad side would be a bad move.  

"But, my lady—" interrupted one of the lords. 

"I am not done talking, my lord." the stern in her voice quiet him down. It sent chills down Jon and Daenerys' back. She was something all right. "Our King sacrificed himself for us; Queen Daenerys sacrificed herself for us and these are actions that aren’t meant to be ignored." she paused and went into a deep thought. The words that came out were difficult but needed. "As Lady of Winterfell,"  

She scanned the room with her blue eyes and thought of her father and what he would do in this situation. Doing the right thing might get her or anyone else killed but it’s a risk she was willing to make. A sharp pain came and made her talk hastily.  

"I acknowledge her as my Queen." the room roared again with many manly voices outraged and disappointed. She really couldn’t blame them. 

Sansa staggered but managed to compose herself before anyone noticed. But Arya and Lyanna did. Lyanna was the only one who kept quiet and looking at Sansa, who raised an eyebrow in question. Sansa looked at her and nodded as if she was answering her.  

"You may not see it or understand it right now but at the end of the day, survival is what's important!" as she yelled her body almost fell but she resisted. Sansa could feel the tears of pain wielding up. "This meeting is over," she said abruptly, still thinking she had the power to make that call. But Jon didn't protest. "My lords and ladies, please rest your minds and body. Collect your thoughts! I will be here in a few hours to answer all of your questions and doubts. In the meantime, our King needs his rest." 

Sansa stood up and walked away. Sir Davos leaned towards Brienne, who was by his side. "I wonder who really is running this place." Brienne blinked, unsure as well. 

 

Sansa rushed to the Weirwood Tree and took a fist full of ice and ate it as she was an animal that was offered food for the first time. The burning ceased a bit but it wasn’t completely gone. Again, she coughed blood, the same red as the hand shape leaves from the tree. She touched her lips and they were covered in it.  

Her fingers dripped crimson red onto the pure white snow, absorbing it with the same thirst as the young lady. She coughed again and splattered the snow with more blood. Her eyes teared up from the pain and all she wanted was to scream for help. It was unbearable. The pain kept rising and there was no explanation for it. Her façade was crumbling down. How long could she hold this up? 

She looked up at the face of the Weirwood Tree and whispered as if it would open its mouth an speak, "What is happening to me?” 

 

With the remaining strength, she walked to her chamber. Her hood was over her head and she tried her best to hide the fact that she wasn’t all right. All that Sansa wanted was to rest. It was getting pretty late so the torches were already lit. In the halls, she could hear some murmurs. Low whispers.  

From the distance, she could see Jon and Daenerys exchanging words. Their eyes tender and stances relaxed like ordinary people. They weren't talking like a Queen to a King but like something more… Jon grabbed slightly Daenerys' arm and stroke it down as if she was the most delicate thing in the world… even though she was far from that. Such an intimate gesture made her heart skipped a beat and a soft gasp escaped her lips.  

It all made sense now.  

Daenerys spotted Sansa and her expression changed, making her seem older. Jon looked back and dropped his hand. For the first time, Littlefinger was right. Not even her brother could resist the beauty of the Targaryen Queen. 

Sansa felt something that puzzled her, a flicker of something new. Jealousy? No. Envy? No. It was  _yearning_. She wanted to be there, with both of them and the thought scared her more than it should've disgusted her. But her body wasn’t cooperating with her mind. Sansa walked past them, nodded and said, "Good night, my King, my Queen." words icy as the snow she swallowed. 

As soon as she got in, she took off her drenched coat and belt and dropped it on the floor. She had no time to be tidy, she thought as she crawled on her bed, grunting and hissing. The soft bed made it a bit bearable but as soon as she relaxed her sore body someone knocked on the door. Sansa closed her eyes and let out a big breath but now  _that_  hurt her body and took a mental note to not do that. Jon opened the door and closed it. 

She stood up as best as she could without wincing. Sansa knew why he was there. "You don’t need to explain yourself, my King." The way she said it made it painful for Jon to hear. 

He just stood there, darkened by the shadows making him look like he was part of the castle. "But I still feel like I should." and he told her everything.  

She was doing her best to keep her composure and the words that came out of Jon's mouth made the minutes unbearable. Sweat rolled down her neck and back. She could tell her breath was getting ragged and she needed to make this quick. 

"Jon, you're King. Kings do what Kings do." Jon could tell she was irritated and being compared with other Kings hurt his dignity. "I appreciate your honesty but right now I am tired. If you haven’t noticed, I had to maintain our lords in control, keep our people from starving and freezing, sentence a man to death and worry for you and our siblings and all this while you kept the Queen sweet company—" the words just spilled like water. Sansa closed her mouth. She stood up ignoring the pain. "I apologize, my King," and she was.   

Pain does that to people. 

“Sansa, wait.” 

But Sansa left the room to catch some alone time. Her chambers were unbearably hot—something her mother used to say, bitterly when she was homesick but Sansa knew that it wasn't the room... But her own body—and now she made a fool out of herself in front of Jon. 

She realized that the only person who could have some sort of answers was her brother Bran. Quickly she went to his room but he wasn’t there. Where was he? He  _couldn't_  have gotten too far, not even with help. When she moved hastily it made everything worse and she staggered. Her shoulder hit the wall; she was looking for support and balance. 

Sansa coughed again and caught the blood on her hand. She whipped her mouth when she heard someone calling her name. It was Arya. She looked concerned. She must have seen her in that state. 

Daenerys was on the other side of the hall, walking as if she was searching for someone. Sansa's heart raced and ached. Everything burned. Arya noticed the blood dripping from her sister's hand. 

"Sansa… you're bleeding?" Sansa hid her hand; she didn't feel like giving anyone explanations. 

"Do you know where Bran is?" the urgency in her voice cough Arya off guard and she saw that there were traces of blood inside her mouth. 

"They are bathing him… Sansa… you don’t look right." 

Sansa turned her back and walked away from her sister. Something they were used to when they were little. Arya asking something and Sansa ignoring her... But this was different... this was  _blood_.  

Daenerys saw her but kept walking. Their shoulder touched slightly, soft like a sigh. Suddenly Sansa coughed so loudly that it boomed all over her body and halls. Daenerys turned in shock and Arya rushed towards her. 

Sansa fell to her knees and blood kept coming out of her mouth. The horror in both their faces told Sansa that it looked very bad. Her eyes stung even though tears were rolling down. 

It all went in slow motion. 

As her aching body fell, Arya fell to her knees and grabbed her head. Daenerys ran away in some direction she couldn't tell because everything was spinning. She couldn’t hear well but Arya was calling her name and calling for help. 

Sansa's body couldn’t bear it anymore so it shut down. She had no control over it anymore. Jon appeared, along with other people, that she couldn't tell whom they were because their faces were being disfigured by her dizziness, running towards her with horror and fear in his voice. He grabbed her face, drenching his hands in her blood, trying to wake her up. Like a baby, Jon lifted her and carried her to her bed. 

Jon realized that she was burning. She should have been dead with this kind of fever. In Jon's and everyone else's eyes … she was dying. 

"No, no, no, no!" he said as Sansa's body trembled. Not another one! 

Not  _his_  Sansa! 

"Bran…" she managed to say before everything went black and the sound of Daenerys, Jon, and Arya's and everyone else's voices calling her name, faded away. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just to make things clear (and legal) there are quotes that come directly from the book (since I've decided to read them... Since I have no electricity...)


	3. King and Queen

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A bit rushed but this is 5 chapters long after all. This is all coming from my phone so ...

Sansa opened her eyes and let out a gasp that stretched into each corner of far darkness. 

The light from the little candles was fighting in the blackness of the crypts and now she couldn’t tell if it was cold or hot. But one thing was for certain: she was back. 

The statue of her dead aunt stood illuminated and tall and echoes of the water drops hit the small puddles on the ground. Again, the glow that was behind the statue was being covered by the dragon's growling mouth. 

 _Sansa … Oh, Sansa…_  

"Sansa." said a familiar voice from behind her. Startled, she looked back and saw her brother,  _standing_. 

"Bran, you are stan—" 

"The whispers." Bran interrupted. "I can hear them too." so she wasn’t losing her mind but it didn’t relieve her at all. "I heard them the first time you came here and saw  _him_." he pointed at the dragon's head. Bran  _walked_  and stood beside her. "For the first time I didn’t know what I was looking for." he stared at the statue and Sansa followed his gaze. "But your dreams gave me clues." The growl got louder, startling Sansa but Bran kept his gaze on it. "I'm not supposed to be here but my sister needs my help."   

Sansa wanted to grab his hand and squeeze it but she knew that it was all in her head or another dimension that she didn’t know the rules to. But she did see the corner of his lips move up in an attempt to smile. 

"What did you see?" she asked. 

 

Lyanna made a pact with a witch that delivered Jon. She knew that she didn’t have long and she did her best to ask her for help. Before Ned arrived to the Tower of Joy, she asked her to guarantee the safety of her first born. The risk of her son was too much and fear wasn’t letting her go in peace. Lyanna was lying in a bed full of her own blood, fighting as hard as a fifteen-year-old girl could. 

But she was something else. She was a Stark and the blood of her ancestors ran through her veins. This was a fight she was not going to give up. 

"Please," she begged. "I need to know that you will do everything in your power to protect him from immediate danger." Lyanna tried her best to speak but she was getting too weak to even keep her eyelids open. 

"Lyanna… my dear friend. You know that only a dragon can do that. There are no more dragons." 

"You don’t know that! I know how magic works…" she coughed. Jon let out a cry. "I don’t care the price. I'll pay it! Make it happen!" The witch knew there was something she could do but she didn't know the cost. "You owe me." Lyanna didn’t want to remind her friend the things she had done for her but her son came first. 

"I need dragon glass," she whispered, hoping her friend didn’t have one.   
Lyanna took her pendant, it was in the shape of an egg with a flat surface in the back and gave it to her. "My husband gave it to me. Use it." The witch took it and hid it inside her dress. "Thank you." she sounded so exhausted. 

Then Ned, her brother, appeared. 

 _Promise me, Ned_ _…_  

The witch was granted permission to stay at Winterfell. It was the least Ned could do for a friend of Lyanna's. It was a rough couple of years. She saw how Jon grew in a home where people thought he was a bastard and prayed that soon the truth would be known. The witch pitied him but she knew he was as strong as his mother. 

But a promise is a promise. 

That's when Sansa was born on a warm summer day. The witch help Catelyn give birth to her along with the maester. Quickly she gave her to her mother so that Cat could look at her and name her, then took her to clean her up. She held baby Sansa in her arms. "I'm sorry, little one. I'm sorry that it has to be you." The witch had taken Jon's blood and kept it for the ritual. She took the dragon glass, smeared it with the blood and pressed it on her little forehead and then chest. Ancient words came out of her mouth and each time the baby would squirm. 

A gust of wind filled the room, it trembled and the candles exploded in sparks. It was definitely a strong spell. Ancient and unpredictable. The baby's eyes, blue as the sky and frozen rivers, turned golden as the light of a forest fire. The words came faster and faster and the newborn skin absorbed the blood like water on a cloth. 

Finally, it was over. 

As the witch cleaned her up and said, "When real danger comes for the son of my dear friend, you will become his guardian. Your body will change so that you can be his protector and together fly and conquer." she kissed her forehead. "I really wish it doesn’t come to that. If it does, I hope my sacrifice would count as something." 

When she came back, Ned took Sansa and asked the witch if she was alright. She didn’t look good, her skin turned pale and under her eyes were purple bags. 

"I'm fine." she lied. 

That was the last time the Starks saw the witch. 

 

When Bran finished explaining, Sansa was filled with confusion. 

"Jon is not my …  _our_  brother," she said in shock. "My aunt wanted to save her son at my expense?" she was outraged and glared at the statue. "I still don’t understand why I fill like I'm dying!" her scream echoed through the crypts and it trembled. Dust and pebbles fell on the ground. 

"Your body is changing, Sansa," Bran said as a matter of fact. "You're going to be Jon's protector, a Targaryen guardian and it’s impossible as a woman. As a human." Bran pointed at the dragon. "You will become  _it._ " 

Sansa felt like her knees would give up in any moment. "I will become a  _monster_ …" she whispered. "But I don’t understand. All his life Jon has been in danger. I knew he was going to fight Ramsay and his army and my body felt fine!" Bran wanted to tell her about the time he was stabbed in the heart but decided not to. 

"But he is still alive." 

Sansa paused at the realization. "You mean to say that he will not survive this war?" she felt fear all over her body. The thought of Jon dying … the crypt trembled again. Bran didn’t answer. "Is there a way to stop this?" 

The dragon snarled. "No. Your body is already changing. It's just a matter of time. It just needs a little push, a bit of help but you still have time to enjoy your normal body." Sansa had forgotten how crude her brother's words could be. 

"Will I go back to normal?" 

Silence.  

For the first time, she saw how uncomfortable he looked. "I don’t know, Sansa. I just see the past and the present." Sansa felt so betrayed. "You need to stop fighting it or else it will be more painful. You need to embrace the dragon." Sansa felt cheated. Robbed. "It's the only way to save Jon and our people." 

That caught her attention. 

Her people. 

"This is your destiny, Sansa. The same way I'm the Three-Eyed Raven and Arya … " he paused. 

"I'm so scared," she admitted. At this moment there was no point in hiding obvious feelings. But she didn’t say it to her brother, she said it to the dragon. It let out a breath, almost like a sigh and it lowered its head. 

"I can't be here when it happens," She nodded as his body started to lose its form. 

"Can you look for her?" 

"Yes." he finally said. 

This was for Jon, this was for her people, this was for the world. 

This was for Daenerys. 

Bran disappeared and she took a step forward. The statue crumbled down turning into dust. It was blown away, leaving Sansa alone with the dragon at the crypt. Its jaws opened and Sansa let the flames consume her like an embrace from a loved one. 

 

The pain was a memory that still lingered in the corners of her mind. While the burning was slowing down, she was still thirsty. Her bed was drenched in sweat and blood, her eyes flickered and the first thing she saw was her ceiling. 

 Sansa wiggled her toes and fingers to see if she was still herself. She was back. 

But sadly, alone. 

With difficulty (since her body was sore) she stood up and grabbed the cup of water. She chugged it down and then took three more. At first, Sansa could taste the bitter blood that still lingered in her mouth but as soon as that was gone, it was as if the gods themselves had given her their water. It was refreshing. 

Someone entered the room. A girl with towels and sheets. As soon as she saw Sansa, she dropped them and ran. Her feet hitting the floor echoed and disappeared and then it followed by multiple steps running towards the room. Jon entered and Daenerys was behind him. Jon grabbed her shoulders and hugged her. Sansa winced. 

"Jon," said Daenerys. "She is still in pain." her words were so sweet and yet with warning. 

Soon Arya was in the room. 

Bran was at the Weirwood Tree. He had asked with urgency in his voice. 

There was a speculation that Littlefinger poisoned Sansa before he died. No one knows how or when but it seemed like the only explanation … plus they  _needed_  an explanation. 

"I'm better now," Sansa said, truthfully. 

Arya looked from the distance. She wished she was No One again. Maybe that way she wouldn’t feel fear. Brianne had asked her to leave with her. A must needed distraction was what convinced her.  _Sansa will still be there_ , she thought… she hopped. 

 

Jon explained how Sansa was convulsing and spitting blood. Her temperature was too high and they were expecting the worse. Bran had touched her trembling hand, "I'm going to help her." and his eyes went white when they offered the milk of the poppy or worse… tears of Lys to end her suffering. Soon after, Sansa stopped moving. 

The blood on her bed was horrid and it smelled. It was as if someone had murdered someone there. It sent shivers down her spine. "I still don’t understand how you survived," Jon whispered. “How could Bran…?” he got lost in thought. 

"It was a miracle. It has been  _days_." Daenerys said. All these events had triggered the memories of the loss of her sun-and-stars… her  _khal_. 

Sansa pressed her hands on each of theirs. A bold move on her part. "Trust me when I say that I'm better. Bran helped… and I am convinced we will win this war."  

The way she said made it seemed like she had a plan that could guarantee it. It confused both of them and they looked at each other. They had learned to look at one another when odd or difficult situations occurred. 

"War?" said Jon. "We are not talking about war right now! I thought I lost you!" Sansa could feel Jon's hand trembling. 

"You gave all of us a fright." Sansa could feel the tension in her Queen's hand. 

"Jon, can you give me a minute with the Queen? Bran has some information that would come to your interests." Jon hesitated but with just one look Daenerys convinced him to go. Plus, deep down she wanted to be alone with Sansa. 

As soon as Jon closed the door Sansa went straight to the point. 

"I know one of your dragons died." Daenerys froze. "It's an information that you want to keep from others and that's ok." Sansa was looking for a way to explain to her how she knew without sounding like a mad person. “Do you believe in visions, your grace?” she nodded. It took Sansa a minute to gather her thoughts. "It's hard to explain but… I've seen him. In my dreams."  

Daenerys looked guarded now.  

"I know how it sounds… I don’t know how else to explain it but… I've seen you. Through his eyes. I've lived his life. My brother, Bran, helped me realize why I was having those visions and why I looked and felt like I was dying… I was cursed when I was born and Viserion helped me." With a bitter scoff, she added, “I thought I was going crazy… but the moment you walked through my gates…” As she spoke, Sansa took some steps forward, making her take back. "This curse will change me… I’ll be like one of your flying children." 

Sansa tried to grab her hand Daenerys recoiled. The hurt in her eyes was real but it didn’t change the fact that the words that were coming out of that lovely mouth were pure madness. "Do you hear what you are saying?" there couldn’t be that type of magic in this world. It was too much! One thing was that dragons exist and another is that a human could transform. But then again… the dead are coming and that was pure magic. 

Jon's sister's body pressed against the Queen's and she gasped. It was soft and Daenerys wanted to touch Sansa's cheek. To hug her. The pull was unnatural. Suddenly she saw how Sansa's pupils stretched for a second. Daenerys gasped. 

“ _How_ …?” As if Sansa was reading her mind, she tried again to take her hand and this time Daenerys let her. With a delicate touch, she pressed the hand on her warm cheek. 

"I wished I had the full answer. Even I’m puzzled by all this." Sansa said closing her eyes. "All I know is that your dragons love you very much." Daenerys breath quickened. "I will protect my people and my King …" she pressed her body harder against hers. Daenerys grabbed Sansa's face and pulled it wanting to get a better view. "And my Queen…" 

But it was all interrupted by someone slamming open the door. Jon looked like he ran there. Sansa knew that Bran told him everything. 

"Sansa, get away from her." the stern voice shocked both women. "My Queen," said Jon. "please go to your army. They need you right now." 

That caught her attention. "Did something happen?" 

Jon didn’t want to lie but he needed to be alone with Sansa. With a look, Daenerys knew and she left. 

"Bran told you." 

"Please, change your garments…" seeing her still covered in dry blood made his headache. He needed to get that vision out of his head. 

"This one is cooler. The others suffocate me," she admitted. Jon wanted to say that it was freezing outside but he didn’t have the energy to argue. He went took a clean sheet and covered her. Her eyes … blue as the sky had a faint golden ring around the pupils … 

"Yes…" he finally said. "Bran told me and Sam gave me proof from a book he apparently stole. They were married. I’m not a bastard..." Sansa looked away. She wanted to say sorry for something that she didn’t have control off. She wanted to say sorry that he had feelings for her aunt… "But it doesn’t matter now. There is no time for this kind of things when war is coming. Plus, you will always be my sister." Sansa blinked and moved away. Jon may still see her as a sibling but she… far from that. "And please, don’t get involved with the Queen unless it's necessary. Unless I demand it." 

Jon walked towards the door. "Jon…" 

"And that goes from me as well." 

Sansa looked at the closed door. Tears welled in her eyes. Again, she was all alone. 

 

The Lady of Winterfell didn’t leave her room until it was past midnight. The fresh winter air was needed to cool a bit of her body. The pain might have ceased but she was still sweating. This time she wore a loose blue gown and a loose braid that fell over her shoulder. Jon's rejection hurt her more than she could've ever imagined. 

Prohibiting her from seeing Daenerys was also something that struck her like a slap. 

Maybe the walk would help her clear her mind and find some answers to her complicated feelings. Yes, there was an attraction towards both of them (even if Sansa had spoken to her for a day). Jon Snow, the King of the North, serious but compassionate, a leader and a good fighter. One of the most honorable men she had known… also handsome and when he smiles, she smiles because it was for her and no other.  

Sansa would do anything for him.  

Daenerys Targaryen, the Mother of Dragons, strong and willed, a ruler that frees the poor and the enslaved, has unconditional love for her dragons, the root of her identity. But also, she is undeniably beautiful and when she says her name and she touch her cheek… purely electrifying.  

She admired them and surely, they would make a good King and Queen, both of them ruling the Seven Kingdoms while Sansa marries another man … how lonely that thought. 

Her train of thought vanished when she realized she was on a white field. She must have wondered too far. She still knew where she was so she wasn’t lost. Sansa could hear some voices in the distance. Maybe some of the Queen's men. 

Sansa noticed that, even though there were unexpected gusts of wind, the temperature had risen. She could hear something in the sky and looked up. Thankfully there was a full moon so almost everything was illuminated. The torch blew out as soon as the dragons landed. Sansa had to shield her face with her arms from the snow that blew off. 

Dragons, real this time and so close. 

She forgot how to breathe for a moment. 

Just like in her dreams, she took a few steps forward. They were Viserion's brothers; big and emitting the smell of burnt flesh. It didn’t bother her as much as she thought it would. Drogon lowered his head and sniffed her. Her trembling hand landed between the nostrils. The eyes glowed with the moon and there was knowledge there. Recognition.  

"Your brother did his best…" she said. Rhaegal lowered his head too. So, this is what she will become. So far, they seemed like decent beings. Loyal and powerful. "I'm going to do my best too. It's my destiny to protect. It's all I've got." she whispered that last part. Drogon gave a little whimper. 

The dragons looked behind her and Daenerys was watching her. She was visiting her men and decided to look for her dragons but she would have never guessed that she would stumble upon such a magical scene. "How is that possible…?" 

"Your grace," said Sansa standing there. "You should go back to the castle and rest. It's late." 

"You should come with me. I don’t know how you are not freezing to death." her voice was rushed and filled with concern. She was afraid that her dragons would do something to Sansa. 

"You go right ahead. I was instructed by the King not to be near you unless he demands it." Daenerys lifted her eyebrows in shock. Jon? Prohibiting his sister to meet her? Preposterous! "Besides, I'm not cold." 

"The Lady of Winterfell shouldn’t be alone at this late of an hour." Daenerys tried to reason. 

"Neither the future Queen of the Seven Kingdoms. I know this place like the back of my hand. I know where to go." 

"Well, why don’t you guide me, then? I think I've lost my way," she lied. "I doubt Jon would get mad if you take me back to Winterfell." Sansa smiled. "Come," Daenerys said and extended her hand. Sansa walked and they linked arms. Sansa felt hotter. 

"I want to apologize for how I acted back in my room. I know that it was strange and I stepped out of bound." Sansa felt embarrassed. Treating Daenerys Targaryen as a common person, pushing her body as if she was a man... no, she would never do that to a man.  

"I've seen worse," Daenerys reassured. "But really, you shouldn’t be alone at this hour." 

Sansa looked back at the dragons and the dragons looked at her. "But I wasn’t alone, my Queen.” 


	4. Love and Magic

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One more chapter to go!

Daenerys took Sansa to her room.  

She already knew about her new family ties; Jon had arranged a meeting that same night with Bran and told her everything. Part of the reason she was walking in the woods in the first place. She needed time to process everything. Jon… her nephew… and they… in her ship… plus this new magic that appeared in the form of the lovely Sansa, Jon's sister—no, cousin. It was hard to deal with. And the army of the dead. The death of her dragon. 

"I was informed of the latest news of how Jon is…" Daenerys sat at the edge of the bed. 

Sansa o. 

"I'm new to the news too, my Queen." 

Daenerys smiled, it was a sad one. "Please, call me Daenerys. I know I am a Queen but hearing it all the time can get pretty tiring." 

"I wouldn’t know," said Sansa. "For me, it doesn’t sound too bad." Daenerys giggled.  

Then cleared her throat. It has been so long since she did that. "I am proud of my titles, don’t get me wrong." she let out a sigh. "I have to give Missandei a gift for every time she introduces me."  

Sansa giggled too and covered her mouth. Daenerys looked at her and couldn’t help but think that she was the most adorable girl she has ever seen. There was no mistake that there was something there.  

"I heard what you said to my children." Daenerys touched her hand. The touch was warm and inviting. "Is what I'm feeling… part of the magic? Part of the curse?" it was a very valid question. Sansa's feelings and body are altered by the witch. But she didn’t know. 

"I don’t know…" Sansa's face felt hot at the declaration. "I've never felt like this before, especially towards a …" 

"A woman." Daenerys finished. Sansa nodded. 

"I know I shouldn’t feel this way." Daenerys gripped her hand slightly. 

"Who says you can't?" Sansa let out a ragged breath. 

"Jon will be unpleased if he sees me with you. Please, go back to your chamber." It was almost a whisper. It was obvious that Sansa was tearing apart. Daenerys frowned and stood up. The space that she left felt so lonely. Sansa followed her with her blue eyes, with regret but understanding. 

Daenerys bent down. "I'm doing it because it's you." and kissed her cheek. She lingered and Sansa felt like her heart was going to explode. 

 

Daenerys requested to speak to Jon. They were both on the room where they held the meetings but this time, they were alone. Daenerys was waiting, hands clasped in front of her just like she always did when something serious was happening. It was still late but it didn’t matter to her. She needed to know. 

As soon as Jon walked in she asked him, in a very demanding voice, "Why did you forbid your sister to not be near me?"  _sister_ wasn’t the word but there was a weight that helped her to inflict a bit of hurt in him. He just stood there, this time with his hair down. Jon really wanted to feel comfortable in his own home. 

"She is not my sister…" he said as if that would make a difference. Or at least change the subject. 

"She is still your family." the words that came out of her were as heavy as the atmosphere they were creating. "Just like  _we_  are." 

"With all due respect, your grace, she isn't yours. We don’t know what is wrong with her and you can't be near someone who is unstable." 

There was a flicker of anger that rose like a tide on a hurricane. Her hands dropped and nose flared. "Do not lie to me! You know very well what is happening to her. If you choose to believe or not that is not my problem! What bothers me is your lack of compassion towards her. I don’t need protection!" 

"It's not you who I am only I'm protecting!" his voice echoed through the room. "I'd be a fool if I ignore this type of thing… She is different now. I'm different now—we weren't like this when we were kids—I-" Daenerys listened. She could see how his confusion was consuming him. It had to be different and more difficult for him due to their history. "Bran told me what my  _mother_  did to her … how can Sansa  _protect_  me? I swore to bring her no harm and now that is all I'm doing." He let out an exasperating grunt and pushed his dark hair with his fingers. "I hate magic for doing this to her… a  _dragon_." He scoffed. This all seemed like a very bad joke. 

"Remember that she is suffering too and she needs you more than ever," she said very seriously. It sounded like a warning. "The least you can do is apologize to her." and with that Daenerys left Jon alone. 

 

Jon stood by the door. He could see the faint glow of the candles from the bottom of the door. It was late but he had to see her. He knocked. 

"It's me," he said. There was a moment of silence before he heard her footsteps going to the door. She opened it. 

Jon looked at her, her gown loose, he could see the outline of her breasts and he had to look away. Her eyes were on him, they looked tired. "Jon?" 

"Can I come in?" she nodded and let him in. 

Her hair was down, wavy from the braid. She pulled the hair to one side, revealing her neck. 

Her brush was on the bed so he assumed she was brushing it. "Is there something wrong?" she asked. Her voice turned serious like she was still in command of Winterfell. Ready to take action. 

The candles illuminated their faces. It was so intimate that he was afraid of doing something stupid. "No, no. I just came to talk. Sit, please." Sansa sat on the chair that was next to her bed. "I want to apologize for treating you like I did… I was confused. The heat of the moment. Everything I knew was a lie to cover a secret. A secret that involved you. I'm the one that is supposed to protect you." He kneeled and took her hand. "Not the other way around." 

Sansa sighed. "You need to realize that just because I'm a girl-" 

"No, no. That's not it. It's not because you're a girl. Trust me, women have shown me not to underestimate them… " he remembered all the women in his life and how deadly they were. "It's because you're family. Just like Bran and Arya." Sansa swallowed. "And even if you were going to become a dragon that doesn’t mean that you will not …" he didn’t want to say  _die_. "get hurt. Dragons are not immune to the Night King. I really can't lose you." he lowered his head. 

Sansa raised her free hand and with her finger pushed his rough chin up. There was fear in his eyes and they were getting misty and red. "You'd die protecting your people, your family. Not because you are a King but because that's who you are… let me do the same." he grunted and stood up. "You can't stop this, Jon." her voice was now stronger. "It's what I'm meant to do." 

"No!" he cried like a child and Sansa walked and hugged his back. "I will not accept this." he was shaking now. She knew how much he loved her, not in the way she wanted but still, she felt it. "I need to go." he broke the embrace and stormed out the room, leaving Sansa, again, with a space that made her feel lonelier. 

 

For the past two day,s the lords and ladies were discussing strategy, clothes and food supplies. Daenerys was gracious enough to bring more food and weapons (most with dragon glass). Sansa kept focusing on her tasks as Lady of Winterfell, tending some of the needs of her people since Jon was busy with trying to win the war. So far everything was in order. She may be cursed but she still had her normal responsibilities. 

 

Sansa met Bran at the Weirwood to discuss the favor she asked when she was still in pain. 

She sat next to the roots and Bran just looked at the Tree. He had found her. In the shape of a crow, he landed on her window. She looked older, hair with white and brown. Wrinkles and tired eyes. The witched had decided to live in solitude. 

But she knew who the crow was. 

"I see that the Three-Eyed Raven have come for answers." she gave a scoff. "Took you long enough." The raven didn’t say anything. Just stood there, looking at her. "I felt her accept the curse so I knew that I had to prepare for questions. Though know this, I was doing a friend a favor." she faced the raven. 

"Will she go back to normal?" said Bran from his side but the Witch heard him. 

She sat down on an old wooden chair and cleaned her hands. She was plucking a chicken. 

"Probably when she fulfills the spell. I conjured it out of desperation. To me, it's still a mystery. There are questions that even I don’t know. I was taught by a more experienced witch but there were things that she couldn’t tell to my younger self. Mostly because she died before she could. Like, for example, that I would lose all my magic as soon as I did the spell. I’m useless to your cause." there was silence. "I guess that was my punishment but I learned to live a quiet and normal life." She shrugged. 

"You should come to Winterfell," said Bran. "There is a threat coming here and we can give you shelter." The Witch let out a deep breath. 

"I am aware. I've accepted it. Just because I don’t have magic doesn’t mean I'm a stranger to the things that are happening. Go, tell the girl what I said." 

Bran just had to ask the question that was itching in the back of his mind. 

"Why didn’t she transformed when Jon died or when he was at the battles?" 

"Because Jon was never in a real threat. A real threat that involved the supernatural. He is still alive, isn't he?" 

"What if she doesn’t fulfill the spell.?" 

The Witch looked down, almost afraid of the thought. "Let's hope it doesn’t come to that." 

 

What Bran told her didn’t make her feel any better. Such ambiguity made her head hurt. Not because of the curse but because it was too much. The uncertainty of her future scared her now. She didn’t think of the fact that what would happen to her if Jon died. 

"Jon is King and Kings are always in danger." she managed to say. 

 

At the end of the day, she went to her chamber and saw that Daenerys was standing in the middle of the room, waiting and unguarded. Sansa closed the door slowly as if confused of the situation. 

"Is there anything I can do for you?" Daenerys smiled, she was still so polite towards her. She wished Sansa would be more relaxed in her presence. 

"I apologize for my boldness but… I need to know how far this goes." Daenerys extended her hand as if she was asking Sansa to walk closer to her. Sansa should be used to her but the Queen was as breathtaking as ever. Of course, she was going to get closer. Sansa took her hand. "I mean… my feelings for you." Sansa could feel the beat of her heart pounding all over her body. "Magic can manipulate people, the future … A terrible war is coming and I don’t want to leave this world without knowing." Those words fell on Sansa like a landslide. Daenerys… dying… it sent chills down her spine. 

"Dae-" 

"Shh… I ask you to give this a chance." Daenerys was right. At this point what did she had to lose? Both of them sat on the edge of the bed. Sansa looked away a bit embarrassed. 

Daenerys smiled and pressed her forehead against hers. Their breaths synched and the tip of their noses touched. It was so sweet and intimate. 

Daenerys knew that there was no way magic could be telling her to feel like this. And even if it did, she didn’t care. She didn’t care at all. Actually, she was more than glad. Their fingers intertwined and their lips parted for an invitation. 

The kiss was delicate and warm. Their lips soft and passionate. Daenerys grabbed Sansa's head and pressed her. Sansa gasped and placed her hand on top of the Queen's thigh. It was electrifying. Something new. Something that they didn’t know they wanted for so long. They felt like they have been missing something so beautiful that it was so sad that it had to be discovered in such times. 

They parted and looked directly into their eyes. Sansa's lips were pink and a bit wet. 

Daenerys hugged her and kissed the shoulder of her new beloved. "Thank you," 

"For what, Daenerys?" Sansa kissed her neck. 

"For making me feel something I thought I'd lost." Sansa hugged her tighter. "I thought I found it with Jon, just for a brief moment…" Daenerys parted. "I still love him, though." Sansa looked down. She wasn’t mad because she too loved him. 

 

The morning after, Sansa and Daenerys would often walk together, either to see how the Queen's army was doing, or showing her the Weirwood Tree, the crypts or just roaming the rest of Winterfell. They had gotten closer and it was obvious. 

Jon noticed. 

He had to get out of there. He went to the crypts to see Lyanna's statue. For the first time, he saw her with new eyes. Jon couldn't believe that it was all her doing. 

"Jon?" Sansa was behind him with a candle. "They need you upstairs." 

"How'd you know I'd be here?" 

Sansa thought for a moment. "Just a hunch." Jon couldn’t help but think if that was part of the curse and it showed on his face. Sansa gave a little smile. "Breath, I know you haven't been here since you arrived and Arya saw you going this way." Jon relaxed and couldn’t help but feel like a fool. "Ser Davos is trying his best to answer questions from the people and there is a limit to my authority. Come." she turned her back. 

"I know we talked about this but you don’t need to worry about me." Sansa froze. 

"And I told you that I am going to protect you and my people." she didn’t face him. 

"Sansa…" he said her name like a plea to listen to him. 

When she turned, she saw the hurt in his face again. He had an art to make a sad expression look like beauty. "I was given this power for a reason. I cannot stand and watch how you and Daenerys—and the rest of the people risk their lives. I must use it." God, how much he loved her. Sansa had grown so much. 

Jon walked towards her and grabbed her warm hand. She didn’t have a glove, something that some people questioned due to the weather. He would just say,  _she is a Stark_.  

But he did something that made her legs almost give up. Jon kissed her hand. "You know that I love you." 

At this point, she didn’t know if he meant it as a family or as if something more, but she didn’t care. "I love you too." Sansa's eyes teared. "I really do."  

She hiccupped and kissed him on the lips. Her emotions rushed and the next second, her hand was grabbing his jaw and pulling him. He gasped her name. Jon was in shock. Immediately she regretted it. Her impulse might have cost her his trust and love.  

"I am so sorry, Jon. I-I-" she took a step back, ready to run away. Sansa was shaking in embarrassment. Oh, gods! 

"Wait," said Jon. He didn’t let go of her trembling hand. 

Jon kissed her back and a tear rolled down her cheek. They kissed again and again and again until Jon felt hot. It was different from the Queen, with Jon it was home while with Daenerys it was electrifying. Oh, how she yearned for more. This made things worse even though it felt so right. In Sansa's mind, she couldn’t get out Daenerys' smiling face from her mind. She equally loved them.  

"Jon… Daenerys… I-We…" He looked at her right in the eyes. He  _knew_  and he was ok with it. Jon loved Daenerys too even though it was complicated. 

"I'll make this work. I promise." he kissed her forehead and even though she didn’t know how he would, she nodded.  

 

In her room, Sansa got ready to go to sleep. She didn’t know she was exhausted until her head was pressed against her pillow. But still, she dreamt… She was still in her bed but the room was well lit to see that under her covers something was moving. Crawling towards her, making her heart race.  

She could feel hot skin and hands and lips… Jon and Daenerys moved towards Sansa, they were completely naked. In the candle light, they looked like ethereal beings that had their own glow and they were looking at her. Purple and dark brown eyes followed her with lust. Daenerys hair was loose and over one shoulder. It tickled Sansa. Jon's arms were flexing because he was pushing himself towards her more and his locks were down. Both of them were smiling, a smile that meant that something was going to happen. 

This scene was so perfect that Sansa thought that her heart might explode. Jon went and kissed Daenerys and she wished she could capture it forever. They looked so beautiful together and it was no wonder they fell for each other. They parted and looked at her and each hand started to slid under her covers, between her legs. As soon as they were reaching it— 

"Sansa! Sansa, wake up!" Arya was shaking her sister. She looked worried and troubled. "Something happened. Something bad." 

  

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope all of you liked it!!!  
> Thank you for reading!!


	5. Beginning and End

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow... the last chapter.  
> What a ride!  
> I really hope everyone who read this fic enjoyed it as much as I did writting it.  
> God, I love my OT3!

Bran was hurt. 

He was lying on his bed with a bleeding shoulder. Sansa's little brother was sweating and wincing in pain. That was the first time she had seen him express anything since they've met and it scared her. When Arya called for her, she dressed as quickly as possible and jogged there. The room was crowded. Bran had requested to see all of them since he had news—very bad news.  

The nurse tried her best to keep his steady so she could treat him. "He knew—He-He knew I was coming." Sansa wanted to be by his side but Jon was helping the nurse to pin him down. He was in so much pain. The wound was bleeding and it was covered in blue veins. "He is near! He destroyed The Wall—Argh!" Everyone stood quietly in shock and the only sound that was running in the air were the screams of pain the winter winds, howling.  

"How?" asked Tyrion. He was pacing and trying to ignore the screams.  

"D-Dragon." again he winced. The room got tense. When he said it, he looked at Daenerys and all of them could see that something dark snapped inside of her. 

They didn’t expect a Dragon… or maybe they knew in the back of their minds but were too scared to acknowledge it. There was no wine in the world to make Tyrion keep his mind on track. 

"How dare that abomination make my child a  _puppet_!" Daenerys hissed. Dragons are no slaves!  

Sansa could see the madness in her eyes. The determination to end all of this. Just the thought of a dragon coming to Winterfell and destroy everything… this change so many things and it was now or never that she  _had_  to go with them. 

Her thoughts were interrupted by Brandon's blood-curdling scream when they pressed a hot iron on his wound. There was no way that it would take over his body. Jon wouldn't allow to lose another family member … not after Uncle Benjen… "We must send ravens, messengers, I don’t care how but we must warn everyone! There is no time! I don’t care if they believe us or not but they must be ready!" As soon as Brandon settled down all of them went to the meeting room.  

  

Jon warned the lords and ladies and told them the recent discovery. It was an uproar. They hadn't considered a dragon to be part of the dead! Did they have a chance? Was it worth to fight? Wasn’t it better to flee? The desperation and panic were taking over and Jon couldn’t let that happen.  

"We need to evacuate as soon as possible! Our armies should move towards the White Walkers and give people who can't fight a chance to get as far as possible! Islands are now not an option!" 

"What about the Dragon?" asked Lyanna. "We don’t have a weapon to destroy a Dragon."  

Daenerys stood up. "We do." that captured their attention. "Though we don’t have part of it, we have an arrow that hurt Drogon, my dragon. If we can combine it with Dragon Glass then…" everyone knew that she was hurting. Just the thought of her giving this vital information to these people, who hated her, made them realize that she was thinking about the serious risks. About their survival. "we can destroy it." then she sat down. Sansa was next to her and under the table, she grabbed her hand. Daenerys returned the gesture by gripping it.  

"We sent the ravens, my King." said a squire.  

"Then we ride as soon as we have everything in order." Jon finally said a without a second thought, all of them marched out to finish preparing everything.  

  

Sansa's heart was beating fast. At this rate, everything will be done by tomorrow at dawn. In her chamber, she tried her best to prepare mentally. It was happening. Her fingertips were tingling with anticipation at the thought of danger or maybe it was because she hadn't gotten a wink of sleep. So far, she hadn't felt her body ache or burn in her throat but her body was hot. She didn’t know well how this curse works but there was one way to find out.  

Someone knocked on the door. "My Lady," said Brianne.  

"You may enter." Sansa kept pacing.  

"I come here to escort you."  

"Escort me? Already? I didn’t expect to be this soon." She went to put on her fur coat when Brianne stopped her.  

"Not yet, in a few hours but in the meantime you must not go out of your room. Orders from the King." that raised questions in Sansa's head. "We are preparing Bran and Arya—" 

"Bran? Bran is not fit to go to war." Brianne closed her mouth. "Where are you taking us?" 

"To Dragonstone, My Lady." Sansa's eyes winded. She didn’t expect Jon to do this to her, not after what they talked about! 

" _Dragonstone?!"_  

"Yes, My Lady. We need to head south by the King's Road and then fallow the White Knife until we reach White Harbor. From there we sail until we reach Dragonstone." 

"That would take  _months!_  It doesn’t make any sense! I demand to speak to Jon!" she tried to go past Brianne but Brianne didn’t move. 

"I'm under orders. I cannot let you leave." Brianne would never forget the anger those blue eyes. She was being torn apart but this was part of her Oath and she intended to keep it; no matter how much Sansa resented her for it. Jon said to her that there was no guarantee of victory but he must give their siblings a chance to escape. Brianne told him that she was fit to fight in the war but he said that he trusted her with his siblings as a King he commanded it.  

Brianne closed the door and stood guard.  

  

Sansa was pacing again. How dare he?  _How dare he!?_ The anger triggered something and she was panting, almost growling. When she noticed she cleared her throat and tried to calm down. Jon may lock her in but there was no way he could stop this curse.  

A few hours later Jon and Daenerys entered the room. The view from her window relaxed her and even though she didn’t turn around to look, she knew it was them. Daenerys couldn’t help but look at her in that light. Shapeshifter or not, she didn’t want to be far from her. But also, she didn’t want her to be at the war. As for Jon, he knew she angry. He even feared that it would cost his relationship with her. But he preferred that she would never speak to him again than dead.  

Their presence together brought sadness and her chin was quivering. When she finally turned, tears rolled down her cheeks. "Why are you here?" She turned away. Looking at them with battle clothes made her angrier than ever.  

"I asked him for me to see you," said Daenerys. Her tone was soft.  

"For one last time, my Queen?" her words were meant to hurt and they did.  

"Please… understand us," he said and Sansa snapped her head and stomped towards them. She pushed Jon and he let her. He just looked at her as she tried her best to hit him, again and again. Her hands were getting red and bruised.  

When he saw it, he grabbed her shoulders but she tried to resist. "Oh, I understand!" she yelled. "That's the problem! You think that you are the only ones in fear of losing someone! Literally, everyone who is willing to fight is scared to lose someone! Why do you have that luxury!? Because you are King?" she looked at Daenerys. "Because you are Queen?" 

"Calm down," said Daenerys and placed her hand on her shoulder.  

Sansa pushed it away. "Don’t tell me to calm down!" she had stopped fighting but she was panting now. Strands of hair were over her face. "You don’t understand  _me_! All of this pain would be in vain! It doesn’t matter how far you take me, I am meant to be this! You can't stop this!"  

Jon looked at Daenerys as if she would give him some strength with her gaze. He could always count on her for that. "I brought someone to see if they can break the curse. I've seen her work. I've experienced it…" he could still fill the scars on his chest. The door opened and Melisandre walked in, her crimson red hair shinned with the yellow light of the candles. "I warned her once that if I ever saw her again I would kill her but this curse left me no choice. I told her that if she did this, I would pardon her. She has to break this before going to Blackwater Bay." 

"I will try my best, my King and Queen. I have hope that The Lord of Light will guide me to defeat this curse." Jon nodded and turned his back. Daenerys stood there, looking at the defeated and shocked Sansa. He looked back when he realized that the Queen wasn’t behind him. 

"Why are you doing this to me, Jon?" she whispered as her face twisted in a cry. "Why are you taking this away from me?!" 

Sansa's knees gave but when she was about to hit the floor, Daenerys took her in her arms and soften the landing. "Please, forgive me," said Daenerys but her words were drowned by Sansa's sobs. Those words made her remember the whispers of her aunt that she thought she couldn’t hear. 

… _Forgive me…_  

Melisandre walked towards the door. "I'll be waiting outside, My King." and she closed the door. 

Sansa hugged Daenerys back. With her hand, she caressed her beloved's red hair and kept repeating, "I love you… I love you…" as if she was trying to compensate for the times that she might now say it. When Sansa finally let out all her tears, she looked at her Queen with bloodshot eyes. Daenerys whipped a tear away. "I pray that this will not be the last time I see you." and kissed her forehead.  

Jon just looked at them. A cry fighting its way out of his throat because he couldn’t help but feel that what was he seeing was the closest thing he could call happiness. The two of them, saying goodbye was equally breathtaking and heartbreaking. Daenerys helped Sansa stand up and she looked at Jon. His cousin hiccupped and presser her cheek against Daenerys' hand.  

The cry grew stronger.  

He walked towards them, a bit afraid. The Queen grabbed his hand and squeezed it. "Forgive me…" Jon whispered. Sansa looked at him, still being caressed by Daenerys. His beloved grabbed his face with her delicate and unnatural warm hands. He let out a ragged breath. Oh, god he really did love her. "Forgive me… Don't hate me..." he said again.  

Sansa was frustrated and sad but who was she kidding? She could never hate him. Not in a million years. But what else could she do now? What strengths does she have to prevent the Red Preist from taking the curse away? Her prayers went for the curse to not be broken so that she could go but of course, she didn’t say it out loud. Sansa just cried. 

  

Melisandre entered. Sansa was waiting for her with cold determination in her eyes. "I know you don’t wish for me to take this curse away but I value my life and it's a chance I cannot pass. There are no words that can persuade me, my Lady. You don’t have the power to spare my life, only the King." but something told Melisandre, by looking at how Sansa was looking at her that it would not be an easy task. 

"Which King?" She said while facing Melisandre, the candle flickered and the Red Preist touched her collar, thinking... 

  

Jon was looking down at the men and women working their hardest to finish their tasks. It was already morning. The sun was barely shinning due to the winter clouds. The dirt was wet and it was making their work harder than it needed to be. Melisandre appeared and stood next to him but a few feet apart.  

Daenerys already left to tend her army.  

"Is it done?" he asked without looking at her.  

There was a pause. "I tried my best, my King. I am exhausted beyond relief. This curse… it isn't an ordinary one. I have witnessed many created out of malice and hatred. Those are easily broken or at least manageable but this one… this one was made with pure love and fear." Jon squeezed his fists. Love out of him at the expense of Sansa… "I believe it's _contained._  She put up quite a fight." Jon looked at her but she was already walking away. "I realized that that being spared by a King doesn’t mean much when the dead are the enemy." She stopped and looked up from the wooden stairs. "She is sleeping in her chamber as healthy as you left her to me."  

  

Brianne took Sansa's body and placed her on a carriage. Arya was on a horse and Bran was next to Sansa. Brianne wanted to fight amongst his King but, as she felt before, there was an Oath she had to fulfill. The armies were already marching, in gear, with energy and with the goal of winning for the only house that mattered: The Living.  

Sansa woke up to the sound of the wooden carriage and the road bumps. She groaned and saw her brother looking at her. The last thing she remembered was Melisandre asking The Lord of Light for help and then everything went black and the echo of the dragon's screech disappeared. Bran touched her hand and he nodded.  

"It's still there but caged," he said. "The Red Priestess didn’t destroy the curse. It just contained it. She tricked it." Sansa stood up still a bit disoriented. "You have a  _choice_  now, Sansa. What would it be?"  

Sansa looked out and saw that it was already past midday. "I have a  _choice_ , now..." she repeated and she went into deep thought. Before, she accepted it because there was no other solution but now… Sansa looked at her hands.  

She turned and looked at Bran. "Set it free." And her little brother's eyes went white and ravens cawed in the distance. 

  

Brianne, Podrick and Arya were moving on the direction of the port. The woods were quiet, there were no birds, no animals… not even wind. It was too quiet that it was eerie.  

The blood-curdling scream that came out of the carriage startled them so much that even the horses panicked. Brianne got down and ran to Sansa. She was holding her throat, mouth open and shaking. Arya noticed that Bran had his eyes white and then returned to normal. What did he do? "Give her some water!" Brianne yelled. Podrick ran with the water. They tried to give her some put she spat it out. 

It was happening again, thought Arya. Now they were alone. "We need to move her to an open field," said Bran but no one listened. "We need to move her to an open field!" he yelled and that caught their attention.  

"We need to keep moving to the White Knife! Someone might help her!" but Arya knew that the one who helped her sister last time was Bran.  

She looked at Brianne. "We need to listen to my brother." Brianne looked at Podrick, who was trying to stop Sansa from hitting her head from all the shaking.  

Brandon told them that there was a field up ahead. It was covered in snow. Under other circumstances, this would have been a beautiful scenery but Sansa's screamed transformed it into a nightmare. Sansa's body hitting the wood made it seemed hunted. 

"We need to move her to the middle of the field. Where there's room," said Bran. 

"Room for what?" asked Podrick.  

  

Jon and Daenerys were next to each other, side by side. Their troops marched towards the army of the dead. Soon they would meet them, the air told them that they were getting near but so far there was nothing. Jon wished he had Bran to tell him how far was the White Walkers but he wasn’t going to risk his brother again. Daenerys had Sansa in her mind, a memory that helped her get through this march. Just the thought of the three of them together filled her with determination and her chest was puffed. She looked at Jon and Jon looked at her. Their gaze spoke louder than anything they could have ever said. But now wasn’t the time to be regretting anything. With each step, they got closer to war. 

Closer to death.  

Daenerys dragons flew above them. Drogon and Rhaegal screeched at each other and that caught the Queen's attention. They circled the sky but didn’t move forward. "What's happening?" she whispered. Everyone stopped marching and saw how the dragons flew to the opposite directions. 

Silence. 

The atmosphere was tense. 

Jon looked up ahead and there were snow, rocks, and mist covering the horizon. The wind was faint but still, it brushed their faces with an icy touch that it hurt. A moving shadow caught their attention and he could feel his heart beating hard.  

He waited. 

  

They moved Sansa's body to the open field where she was still shaking and holding her throat. Brianne tried to stop the shaking by holding her, in fear that she would hurt herself but Bran told her to let her be. They had to move the carriage (with difficulty) but stopped and Brianne laid her there.  

"What are we waiting for?" Brianne asked as she walked away from Sansa.  

Bran looked up. "Them." The screech from the dragons made Podrick cover his ears. "They are here."  

The dragons circled the sky until they landed making snow blow in different directions. The sniffed her and looked at her. Brianne had to many thoughts and emotions roaming her head that she didn’t know what to do. She just watched with her mouth open. Out of instinct, she took out Oathkeeper. "What are they going to do with Lady Sansa?" she yelled, fearing the worst. "We need to take her out of here!"  

"No," said Bran. As soon as Brianne decided to not listen to the Stark child was the moment that the dragons opened their mouth and spit fire at Sansa's body. 

" _NOOOOOO_ _!_ " Screamed Brianne.  

Arya screamed her sister's name and Podrick fell to his knees, sick to his stomach. There was horror in their eyes as they witness the " _death_ " of Sansa. What was Bran thinking?! Arya looked at her brother, who not bothered by the heat of the fire or the fact that he had lost another sibling. Brianne let Oathkeeper slip from her fingers as she realized that she had failed.  

"Look," Bran said.  

There they saw something that they would never forget. No experience would ever compare with this one. It would mark them for the rest of their lives. Sansa's body was absorbing the flames. It had expanded into black coal. It grew and it grew into a big boulder with every second that the dragons spat fire at it. It was as big as the dragons and was emitting heat to a point that all of them had to move back or else they would burn. When the dragons finished, it stood there, with fiery cracks and fumes. The snow had melted to a point that the ground was pure mud.  

The ground trembled.  

Or more likely, the coal moved.  

Like a landslide, the coal crumbled to the ground until it revealed what was inside.  

  

The troops were getting restless. The shadow stopped moving but there was no indication of what it was. The dragons fleeing created a difficult situation that Daenerys didn’t have control over. Their courage and determination slipped from their hearts and not even the King of the North could prevent.  

Suddenly the faint winter winds stopped. The mist started to clear, revealing the shadow. Jon's eyes winded. There he was. The Night King, on top of Viserion's dead moving body. It let out a screech so loud that it made some of the men and women tremble in fear. The army of the dead was there too, being hidden by the mist and waiting for the orders.  

The Night King took out his sword and pointed it at them. The army started to run towards them. 

"Remember that all of you have dragon glass as a weapon! We cannot give up now!"  

When the army of the dead almost reached them, a wave of fire destroyed the advancing corpses. Everyone looked up, including the Night King. Three dragons were flying in the air. Daenerys recognized Drogon and Rhaegal, who was behind the red dragon with grey undertones.  

"Impossible…" said Jon.  

A tear escaped Daenery's eyes as her mouth dropped open. They looked at one another. 

The Red Dragon landed in front of the army. Its body erect as a royal would, its eyes golden with blue spots. The Night King stopped his own and looked at it. Drogon and Rhaegal landed behind her. They were angry and impatient but the Red Dragon just snarled at the Night King and let out a screech so loud that the dead dragon reacted to it, moving back and shaking its body.  

Jon drew his sword, " _For Winterfell!"_ A wave of fierce voices echoed through the air as every warrior screamed their houses.  

And the war started.  

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know it ended how it did. I decided to leave this ending open because I want to know how GoT really ends in this eigth and final season. Probably I will make a second part to this but I will start as soon as the new season ends. I have high hope for this and I really hope that you will continue to fallow this fic for more adventure!


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